


The Thunder & The Rain

by womanaction



Series: Where Do We Go - S6 AU [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 13:50:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11209371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/womanaction/pseuds/womanaction
Summary: Missing scene showing how things got started between Spike and Buffy in "Where Do We Go?". Dubcon warning for magic.





	The Thunder & The Rain

He’s having a bit of a nice dream when it happens. Something about fighting her or fucking her. Hard to remember which. All his good dreams are about her, anyway.

Some buried instinct meant to save his sorry arse jolts him and he blinks his eyes open too soon. It’s still mid-afternoon, but something’s not right.

Spike rolls over languidly and then freezes.

Buffy is there, next to him in the downstairs bed. Still as a corpse – as _her_ corpse. “Buffy?” he asks, barely believing. Some part of his brain tries to persuade him that these last several weeks have been the dream and he’s still trapped in the nightmare of her being dead. _Right, and that explains her being in your bed how?_ He could have stolen the corpse, but even he wasn’t that fucked up.

He’s pretty sure, anyway.

And he hadn’t been drinking. If he’d a living heart, it’d be pounding out of his bleeding chest. He takes a shaky breath to still himself. The oxygen, however unnecessary, makes him feel a little better, and it carries with it the Slayer’s scent. _Not dead, then_. Just asleep.

Begging the questing as to…well, why. He reaches out a hand, feeling something like religious devotion as he brushes her arm gently. Like singing hymns in that echoing chapel when he was just a little nipper, younger than Dawn.

 _Dawn._ Shit.

Should probably work a little harder on waking Buffy up. “Buffy,” he says loudly, voice still scratchy from sleep. “Slayer! Come on, get up. Rise and shine, all that bit.”

Her eyes open immediately and almost uncannily. Dru had had one of those dolls with a switch on the back, making its eyes eerily flip open and shut. She’d delighted in it till the day it’d angered her by not opening its eyes fast enough and she’d smashed it to bits. He didn’t miss it. Creepy little thing.

Buffy stares at him for a long moment, green eyes boring into his. He’s suddenly very aware of his nudity, even if he’s covered by the sheet. Some hopeful part of him whispers that she likes what she sees, but her eyes aren’t straying down to his body. She’s just looking into his eyes, almost as blank as the Bot. _All sorts of fond memories today._

Then her eyes soften, just as suddenly as they opened. “Spike,” she says simply.

“Yeah,” he says cautiously. “It’s me, pet.”

“Your bed is comfy.”

“…thanks.”

She stretches a little, catlike. Whatever sensible part of him that had woken him up is now screaming at him that something is wrong, but he can’t tear his eyes away from her small, powerful body fitting so comfortably in the bed. _His_ bed.

“I bet it’s even comfier to you,” she says in a hushed voice.

“Why’s that, love?” His mouth is dry.                                                            

“Because you don’t have any…clothes in the way…”

He’s got to be having a dream, but he doesn’t really care to wake up from it.

“Maybe I should try it out,” Buffy sighs, and sits up. She’s wearing one of those dainty little tops, barely a scrap. It’s riding up and he’s mesmerized by the strip of golden stomach. _Like a bleeding virgin,_ the part of him that’s still got any shame scoffs. Even that part falls silent as her fingers move to that strip of skin and peel up the top.

She’s not wearing a bra.

 _Bloody hell,_ she’s not wearing a bra.

And he’s just sitting there staring at her. She arches her back. “Don’t you want to touch me?” she asks, but there’s an edge of something in her voice. There’s desperation, sure, and no small amount of lust. But something else, too.

So William, bloody buggering pansy arse William, source of all his own bleeding troubles, opens his damned mouth. “What’s brought this on all of a sudden?”

He wants to die all the fuck over again. Wildly, he wonders if she’s got a stake with her so he can just end it right now. His fist clenches, but he can’t look away from her face, wondering how she’ll respond.

Buffy’s face hardens, angelic features turning cold and empty. “Why do you _care_ all of a sudden? I seem to remember a song along the lines of ‘do me or leave me alone’. Or have you changed your mind again? At least Angel only had two personalities, how many are you up to?”

That one hurts. “Was just tryin’ to be bleedin’ _nice_ , Slayer. Thought that’s what you wanted, me to be a white hat or what have you. And I wouldn’t go slinging accusations of mood swings living in a glass house like you. If I couldn’t smell any better, I’d think you had a permanent case of PMS.”

Her face is blank for a second, and then she speaks in sugary sweet tones. “Tell me the truth, Spikey. You’re all bark and no bite. I bet you can’t even get it up when I’m not beating it out of you.”

He’s never seen her smile that nastily. Even Darla, queen bitch that she was, would shy away. If he’d ever known what was good for him, he would shy away too.

Instead he snarls, “We’ll see about that,” and moves over on top of her, pinning her arms with one arm. She doesn’t resist. He rolls his hips into hers intentionally, enjoying the way her breath hitches. Spike leans in. “That ‘up’ enough for you, Slayer?”

He doesn’t get her look. “Maybe you’re not entirely neutered,” she admits, panting already from excitement. “But you can’t bite me.” Buffy juts her neck out, and his eyes shift to her pulse point. Again, he thinks of the Bot and its stupid, stubborn insistence.

“You should be grateful for that,” he tells her shortly.

Buffy _pouts_ , honest-to-God pouts, and if this whole situation wasn’t screwing with his mind so much he’d think it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. “What if I want you to bite me? Could you do it then?”

She’s teasing him, playing some game. The idea still gives him pause. “Do you…want me to bite you?” He ghosts his mouth over her neck and she shivers.

Then her hands come up into his hair, pulling him down roughly. His mouth opens instinctively, like he’s an infant. But his fangs don’t slide out, delectable as she is. Buffy grunts in frustration as he bites her gently with his blunt human teeth. “I want – ” she gets out before he covers her mouth with his own, impatient.

His hand slides down her body, pushing up her skirt and finding – _bleeding hell,_ this woman is going to be the end of him. No panties. Christ.

In his confusion he’s broken their kiss and he feels Buffy’s eyes on him. Her expression is unreadable and he can’t handle it, can’t handle this feeling of everything being fucking _wrong_. She’s alive and she’s in his bed and she’s not a bleeding robot and Spike is going to take what he can get. He tilts his head, looking for some unspoken sign of consent and she sort of sighs. “This was always going to happen,” her expression seems to say, but he’s sure he’s imagining that. What she actually says, not-too-pleasantly but with a nice breathlessness, is “What the hell are you waiting for?”

He smirks and brushes his thumb against her. She quivers and then he’s pulled into her orbit again, hands roaming her body as she gasps against him. He buries his head in her fragrant hair, trying to inhale as much of her as possible.

When she comes, she leaves an ugly bite mark on his shoulder, possessing him. After a minute, she seems to come back to herself. He waits, dreading the inevitable yelling and storming out. Instead, she just looks at him with those impenetrable green eyes.

“I’m going back to sleep,” she says, pulling away from him and rolling over, taking a good portion of the covers with her.

He just lies there, exposed in more than one sense, wondering what the hell he’s supposed to do with this.


End file.
